


5 times Aaron crashed in on Gareth and Theo and 1 time he got invited

by saltstreets



Series: WIP AMNESTY [4]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-06
Updated: 2018-06-06
Packaged: 2019-05-18 19:49:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14859152
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saltstreets/pseuds/saltstreets
Summary: Exactly what it says on the tin.





	5 times Aaron crashed in on Gareth and Theo and 1 time he got invited

**Author's Note:**

> This is EXTREMELY 2014 and I can't even read it over before posting or I'll entirely lose my nerve and shove it back in the drawer and that is not in the spirit of wip amnesty. The spirit which I have arbitrarily decided to be 'put this shit out in the open and damn the consequences'. Or something of that ilk.
> 
> Anyways, enjoy! 5+1 fics will NEVER DIE.

 

 

1.

The first time, Aaron doesn’t even realise what he’s walked in on, which in retrospect is a bit embarrassing. Almost more embarrassing than the actual walking in, since he didn’t even notice that. It’s after the derby away, won handily, and he’s left his iPod in the dressing room so he goes back to fetch it, still some time before the team bus leaves.

He pushes open the door and Theo and Gareth are there, Gareth standing against the lockers and Theo’s stepping away, eyes wide.

Aaron raises an eyebrow, scooping up his iPod where it’s still lying on the bench. “Fraternising, Walcott?” he says, going for a joke, but Theo blushes furiously. “Bus leaving in five minutes, don’t miss it.” He smiles at Gareth, whose translucent cheeks have gone crimson. “Although honestly you could just walk home, it’s not far.”

Theo smiles weakly. “Right.”

“See you round, Gareth?” Gareth nods, and Aaron leaves, unaware.

 

\--

 

2.

The second time is at the derby home, and Aaron’s not exactly surprised to see Gareth and Theo walking close beside each other into the away dressing room, but he takes a long shower and when he leaves a good while later Theo’s car is still in the car park and he does wonder, just for a minute.

And he does think- because he likes Theo. And he likes Gareth. And despite his connections to them both they do seem to inhabit a small world of their own when they’re together, and it’s not that he feels somehow left out, because he was never at Southampton and he gets that, but-

But Aaron’s never been one to dwell, or to figure conspiracy or whatnot. He’s not a gossiping type. So he doesn’t think on it for long.

 

\--

 

3.

Until the international break. He’s just turned off the water in the shower and he can hear Gareth in the room, laughing. “Oh my god,” Gareth says, voice oddly breathy, “shut _up._ Oh- fuck, do _not_ , Aaron’s in the shower, fuck _off_ , Theo.”

Aaron feels his face heating up, although the scrap of the conversation he’s heard is nothing really, it could have any number of meanings. But there’s something in Gareth’s tone that speaks of privacy, and bedrooms, and it pushes the words beyond the innocent and into the realm of what Aaron should not be overhearing, he can tell that. Beyond the door Gareth laughs again, low and breathless and Aaron swallows, throat dry.

He clatters around noisily in the bathroom and fumbles with the doorknob for a good ten seconds before actually opening the door, giving Gareth a heads up and time to- to what, he’s not exactly sure. When he steps into the room, Gareth is sitting up against the headboard, flicking through channels on the television. Nothing is off, nothing is changed. But Aaron starts to think.

 

\--

 

4.

And then everything moves out of the realm of speculation because he ends up at a house party hosted by Frank Lampard, of all people, who in some misplaced sense of diplomacy has invited a melee of footballers from a variety of London clubs. Aaron privately thinks it’s a recipe for some good old-fashioned brawling, but Lamps seems to think it’ll be a good way to bring about inter-club communication or some such idealistic rot, so Aaron finds himself wandering about, trying to put as much distance between himself and John Terry as possible, because if there’s to be fighting, it’ll come from that quarter.

Which is why he ends up upstairs, pushing open a door in search of a quiet place to work out how best to slip out back without offending Lampard, who’s a good sort really, and sees Theo and Gareth tangled together on a bed, shirts half off and very, very unmistakably kissing.

Theo’s got his hands in Gareth’s back pockets in a way that would be rather cute if it wasn’t all so- _Theo_ , and _Gareth,_ two of Aaron’s team mates in very different contexts, here, together, and suddenly Gareth’s spotted him and they’ve broken apart hurriedly.

“S-sorry,” Aaron stammers, “I was just- sorry, sorry, um,” he can feel babbling words welling up in his throat and that’ll do no one any good, so he opts instead to quickly close the door, nearly dashing down the stairs. He’ll risk the proximity to Terry if it means he can get drunk, and quick.

 

\--

 

5.

Aaron sleeps uneasily that night, because he keeps having strange, disjointed dreams about Theo and Gareth both separately and together, and it makes him feel all twisted up inside. He thinks about all the times he’s seen them together at White Hart Lane and the Emirates and the time he’d overheard Gareth talking to Theo on the phone. The comfortable intimacy, the way they moved around each other. It’s not even the idea of Theo and Gareth being together romantically that bothers him. Aaron likes to think that he’s a bit more- progressive, maybe, than all that, and it’s really not that Theo or Gareth might be gay or whatever it’s just-

It’s just that he feels a little- he feels a little jealous, maybe. Thinking about the way Theo looks after scoring a goal, with his eyes all lit up and laughing, and how Gareth grins with his too-many teeth whenever he sees him on international duty.

Thinking about how the line of Theo’s profile had looked against Gareth’s when they were kissing, the spread of Gareth’s long, almost delicate fingers across Theo’s thigh, pushing him up against the headboard.

 

\--

 

+1.

Theo calls him the next day. Aaron picks up hastily and before Theo can say anything blurts out, “Look, Theo mate, I just wanted to tell you it’s none of my business who you’re interested in, and you don’t have to, to worry about me being a twat and spreading it around or anything ‘cause I wouldn’t do you like that, honest.” He stops, suddenly realising that he’s talking a mile a minute and Theo’s just waiting, patiently, at the other end.

“Thanks,” Theo says finally. “That’s decent of you, Aaron, and I didn’t think you would, but. Thanks.”

“Look, can you tell Gareth-” Aaron cuts himself off again, suddenly swallowing at the thought of Gareth –Gareth with his hair sticking up, Theo’s fingers twisting in it- _fuck,_ honestly the one coming off the worst in this whole mess was going to be him, why’d he have to find out he was attracted to blokes from two who were already _together_? It was probably some kind of universal _take that, Ramsey_ as retribution for being so thick and unobservant and not noticing until the fact was actually shoved right in front of his nose. “Can you tell Gareth what I said?” He hopes Theo can’t hear the choked note in his voice.

“Yeah,” says Theo, slowly. Thoughtfully. “And, Aaron- d’you want to maybe come over this evening? For dinner? Gareth’ll be there.” He laughs lightly. “I have to apologise for ruining your evening.” Even over the phone Aaron can tell he’s wrinkling his nose as he does whenever he’s joking. “No one should be subjected to seeing Gaz with his shirt off, honest.”

Aaron laughs and aggressively does _not_ think about Gareth with his shirt off. “Sure, sounds great.”

 

They’ve migrated from the kitchen to the living room and opened the bottle of hopefully not _too_ cheap wine that Aaron’d unearthed from the back of his cupboard to bring along and about half-way through it Aaron has come to the conclusion that if there was anyone who could make the best of being maybe a bit in love with two of his best friends who also happened to be shagging each other, it was going to be him. Him, Aaron Ramsey, who-

Gareth leans forward and whispers something to Theo, lips nearly brushing his ear, and Theo smiles, suddenly almost predatory, and okay, never mind, this was going to be a lot more difficult than previously imagined.

They’ve shifted closer together and Aaron clears his throat. “Thanks for dinner, I suppose I’ll be getting back, see you at training, Theo. Gareth.” He tries to stand but finds his way blocked by Gareth, who traps him with a hand on his thigh.

“We were thinking,” he says, something glinting in his eye that reminds Aaron of all the stories he’s heard from Theo about what a nightmare Gareth was at Southampton, buckets of water on doors and stolen shower shoes, “if you don’t want to leave. You don’t have to.”

Aaron’s eyes widen. Gareth’s hand is heavy on his thigh and Aaron very much would like it to stay there. He glances quickly at Theo who just smirks at him, and subtly spreads his knees apart on the couch. Something that had been coiled low and hot in Aaron’s belly more or less since he’d walked in on the two of them on the bed makes itself very, very known, stretching up along his spine in a heated rush and sinking down between his legs.

“Stay, Aaron,” says Theo.

And Aaron’s been admittedly slow on the uptake for a while now, but this time, this time he gets it right on the very first go.

 

 


End file.
